i. i'm afraid of the way that you look at me. but i'm afraid of you looking away just as much. i don't think i've ever been looked on with such affection and kindness and that scares me.
i'm afraid that one day your kindness will turn sour, and you won't look at me like i could disappear at any moment.
i find myself wondering why you look on me with such intrigue sometimes, i worry that i'm deformed and you're cataloguing my imperfections,
or that i have paint smudged across my cheeks again and i look like a fool, or whether i'm just something you can't quite fathom yet.
i'm afraid that when you look at me you see me the way i see myself.
ii. you're afraid of being alone. i can feel it in the way you wrap your arm around my shoulders, or how you pull me close, even when no one's watching.
when you place your hand against mine i can feel the cells reaching out towards mine, gasping for affection. they meet and we are at peace. i feel you relax as we lie intertwined on my bed.
one hand in my hand, your thigh against mine, your other hand exploring the valleys and folds of my body. your fingers run down my skin like glacial water in a stream.
a shock to the senses at first, and yet welcome and refreshing. i think we need eachother as much as the mountains need oxygen. when your fingers interlace with mine you remind me of that.
iii. i fear your kindness as much as i fear it fading away. i fear our first argument and the silent pauses between the hurricanes. i fear what you feel and what you don't.
i'm afraid of the day that you don't view me as yours anymore.
iv. you fear letting me go. i can sense it in those last few seconds before you have to go. i can feel it in the way you hold me, or the way you walk down my front steps, reluctant.
or the way you pull me close and linger by my side in the hallway.
v. i'm afraid of eternity and what it holds. the first time you told me you could live like this forever i felt a knot forming in my stomach. & it's still there, tightening slowly but surely.
you live inside my stomach. you wonder if you'll ever feel this way again and i plead to the great something that you won't need to feel this again with anyone else.
"i could live like this forever" we whisper to one another in the darkness and i try not to think about eternity.
vi. you're afraid of making mistakes. i knew that from the moment i met you.
the day we were born you told me you were afraid of fucking everything up and i reassured you that you couldn't do that, even if you tried.
as a boy with such interest in physics and maths, mistakes are two-dimensional to you. my brain doesn't see them that way.
the way i see it, we're all amalgamations of mistakes and chances in the end.
vii. i'm not afraid of commitment. that's not what it is.
what i fear is that one day you'll wake up by my side and wish you were waking up in a different bed, with a different girl, in a different life. i fear what would come next.
i'm afraid of you yearning for more and settling for less. i don't want to become less.
viii. you fear intimacy and i suppose i do too. i fear you feeling my heart rate raise when you touch me and you fear being close to me and taking that step.
you fear doing it wrong, no matter how often i reassure you. you fear not living up to my expectations and i empathise with that. you fear taking that step and me pulling away.
we try not to think about it much and continue on, taking it slowly. we both fear moving too fast, and i'm thankful for that.
ix. the future terrifies me. more than eternity, or the darkness or my weird phobia of cling-film. being unsure has never come naturally to me and i don't think it ever will.
i'm afraid of thinking too much about the future and i worry that i could jeopardise it. i don't want anything to break this spell and yet i fear being too cautious.
i try and settle for a balance in-between the extremes. i've always existed in a no-man's land of my own creation.
x. we're afraid of being afraid. the fears gnaw at us and we'd do anything to stop them from grinding us down. sometimes i think there must be more to life than fear.
we're afraid of doing things wrong and screwing it up, but i can't help but be glad we're both on the same page of this unexpected tale.
i fear reaching the final chapters and pray that the novel never ends, and the author never stops writing or gives up half-way through.
xi. i'm afraid of loving you.
- because i don't know how to love something that doesn't want to destroy me.